Decisions
by Keesha
Summary: Set after S4 Ep17 "Wanted". Callen and Sam have it out.


_Set after S4 EP17 "Wanted." I thought everyone got off too easy about Sam being left in jail. So I added a few short scenes. As usual I own nothing and just having some fun. As always, reviews are appreciated._

Sam slammed his hand flat on the scarred wooden table which rocked with the force of the blow. "You didn't have my back G! How am I suppose to trust you as my partner!"

Callen stood silently, staring neutrally at his furious friend.

"You let them keep me locked up in jail, while that maniac tried to kill my wife!"

"We had Michelle covered..." Callen began to explain but Sam viciously cut him off getting right up in Callen's face.

"Bullshit. You didn't have it covered. You were sloppy. If it wasn't for me she would have died."

Callen held his ground wondering if Sam was going to hit him. Sam was right, he had let his partner down. He should have defied Hetty and gotten Sam out of jail. But he hadn't and it almost cost Sam his wife. However, that is not what he told Sam. Instead he coolly said, "I did what I thought was right."

Sam lost it and all his anger and frustration from the last few days boiled over and landed in the two punches he lay on Callen; one to the torso and one to the face. Callen felt immediate pain, doubling over and dropping to his knees. Upset on many fronts, Sam angrily strode from the room leaving his partner on the floor. When he was gone, Hetty stepped out of the shadows.

"You knew I was here," she accused Callen who remained prone. "Why didn't you tell Sam it was me who ordered you to leave him in jail?"

Still reeling from the blows, Callen replied in gasps. "You may have ordered me... but it's not like... I haven't defied... your orders before. I left Sam in jail... as much as you did."

"Why?" Hetty queried with curiosity.

"Why did I obey you... or why did I leave Sam in jail?"

"I think it is really one and the same question Mr. Callen."

Wincing, Callen repositioned himself, propping his back against the couch while hugging his knees to his chest. His head hung low so as not to meet Hetty eyes. "I keep asking myself the same question. Hubris? Maybe I thought I didn't need Sam's help. Obviously, I was wrong."

"As was I," Hetty admitted with remorse. "Oh Mr. Callen. How many times have I lectured you on going lone wolf and not using your team and yet I put you in that position today."

"I hardly went lone wolf," Callen pointed out. "Kensi, Deeks, the CIA, they were all there."

"Yes, but I took your right hand away from you."

"Sam," Callen whispered.

Hetty slowly walked over to where Callen was propped against the couch, reached out her wizened hand, placed it under his chin and gently but insistently forced him to raise his head. Staring deep into his pain-filled blue eyes she said, "I am truly sorry."

Callen stared long and hard into her moisture-laden brown orbs and replied, "I know."

Dropping her hand back to her side she asked, "Will he forgive?"

Callen tried to lighten the mood, but his joke fell flat. "Me, maybe. You, I don't know."

"What will you do now?"

"I think I'm gonna curl up on the floor and contemplate the meaning of life for a while..."

Hetty nodded sympathetically.

"...then I am going to go over to Sam's house and apologize..." A small smirk graced his battered face. "...standing at least an arms length away."

"Do you think that is wise, given Mr. Hanna's current state of mind?"

"Michelle will be there. She is tougher than Sam and I combined. She'll protect me..." he paused for a beat. "...I think."

"Before I go, would you like me to get you anything, perhaps an ice pack for your cheek?"

"No thanks. As long as I don't move I'm good."

With a wave of her hand Hetty left the room to do some soul searching of her own. She had screwed up today. Maybe Granger was right, she was too protective of her team. Her protectiveness could have gotten Sam and Michelle killed today and that gave her a lot to think upon.

Once Hetty left the boat shed, Callen slid back to the floor, curled into a fetal ball and worked desperately to keep the contents of his stomach inside his body. Exhaustion from the events of the last few days, along with his recent beating, overtook him and he fell into a restless slumber on the wooden floor of the shed.

However, in less than an hour he awoke, cramped and cold. Struggling to his feet, he stumbled into the bathroom where he downed a handful of aspirin and examined his face in the mirror. The skin on his right cheek was spilt and a very nice bruise was forming.

Gently lifting his long sleeve grey t-shirt, he found its matching cousins on his rib cage and a deep stabbing breath confirmed at least one rib was cracked. Dropping his shirt, he glanced at his watch. It was kind of late to go to Sam's, but maybe the big guy was still up. He could drive by and see but only after getting a fortifying cup of coffee, via the drive thru at Starbucks. He was pretty sure if he walked inside looking like he did, someone would call the cops and he would be spending the night it jail and given the current state of affairs, he was pretty sure Sam would leave him in there.

-NCIS LA

As he pulled up to the Hanna household with his coffee, he only saw a single light on. Since he was familiar with the layout of the house, he knew it was the master bed room. No way he was going to go knocking on the door now. Instead, he pulled to the curb across the street where he could keep an eye on the house. It wouldn't hurt since they did not know the whereabouts of Sidorov. Carefully arranging his body to minimize his pain, he hunkered down in his seat with his coffee and kept vigil.

In the morning, the doorbell rang and Sam answered it to find his partner standing there with three containers of coffee. Sam gave his disheveled partner the once over. "They let you in Starbucks looking like that?"

Callen grinned briefly. "Drive thru. Figured they'd call the cops if I walked in. Wasn't sure you'd come bail me out." Callen stared at Sam as if waiting for an answer.

Sam got the message but merely grunted and gestured for Callen to enter. He looked out the door again and noticed the car in his driveway was not the one his partner usually drove. "You driving a loaner?"

"Kind of. I was at the boat-shed. My car wasn't. So I borrowed that one."

While Callen was explaining, it hit Sam. He'd seen that car last night across the street, just before he and Michelle had gone to sleep. "Did you watch my house last night?" he questioned his partner as he shut the door.

"No," Callen lied.

"Ah-huh. So if I go out there and look in that car, the front seat is not going to be littered with tootsie roll wrappers?" Sam knew his partner's affinity for the sweets during a stakeout.

"Nope." 'I threw them all in the back seat' Callen thought to himself.

At that point, Michelle came into the room and took in Callen tousled appearance, cut and bruised face and three cups of coffee. There also was uncharacteristic tension about the two men. Michelle couldn't put the pieces together yet for this puzzle, so she went with a simple "Hello Callen."

Callen held out the cups like a peace offering. "Brought you some coffee. I wasn't sure how you like it so I brought you sugar and cream which..." he realized he left in the car, "...I left in the car. I'll go get it," he finished handing the cups to her and turning to go.

"No. Let me," Sam interrupted. "That way I can scan for wrappers."

Callen sighed. "I told you Sam. There are no..."

"Boys," Michelle interjected. "No one has to go to the car. I have sugar and cream in the kitchen."

The two men stopped arguing and looked a bit sheepish.

At that point their daughter came running out of the kitchen where she'd been eating breakfast and launched herself at Callen. "Uncle Callen," she squealed in delight. Callen had no choice but to catch the small dynamo hurdling at him at warp speed. He caught her with his arms but couldn't stop her body from colliding with his ribs which screamed out in protest. He dropped to one knee from the pain, though he tried to cover up his fall by making it seem as if it was his plan, to be eye level with the little girl. Sam who was standing behind him was fooled but Michelle who was in front, was not.

Since it was too painful at the moment to stand, Callen dropped both knees on the ground and conversed with the Hanna's daughter from there until his ribs calmed down.

Michelle looked at her husband who had a passive expression on his face but storm clouds in his eyes. "Ok, sweetie," she said turning her attention back to her daughter. "Get dressed, comb your hair and don't forget to brush your teeth."

The little girl said goodbye to her Uncle and went to do as instructed. Callen clenched his teeth, stood up, then quickly schooling his face back to neutral once he was vertical.

Shaking her head, Michelle headed into the kitchen with the coffee leaving them to follow or not.

"We need to talk Sam," Callen said seriously.

"Not in front of Michelle. Go wait in the living room."

Callen did as requested while Sam went into the kitchen. Why he thought he could keep this from his wife was beyond stupid because the moment he walked thru the door she was on him. "Samuel Hanna what is going on with you two!" she demanded hands on her hips.

"Nothing," he answered evasively.

"Don't you nothing me. I'm not stupid. And while you're explaining, what happened to his face and who broke his ribs?"

That caught Sam off guard. He'd hit his partner that hard? "His ribs are broken?" Sam said in a concerned voice. "How do you know that?"

"I have been around enough injuries to know when someone is nursing broken ribs. Callen's ribs are definitely broken." By the time she stopped speaking, Sam looked down right guilty and another puzzle piece fell into place. "You did that to him, didn't you? But why? He's your partner and best friend!"

"Who almost got you killed," Sam burst out.

Michelle features froze, then a look of understanding crossed her face. "Sam, it wasn't Callen's fault what happened. He was following orders."

Sam snorted. "Since when does Callen ever play by the rules."

"When he is told to by Hetty... and me."

"You!"

"Yes me Sam. I asked Hetty where you were and she told me you were in jail for your own safety. And like it or not husband, I agreed with her to leave you there; even after your partner specifically asked me if I wanted him to get you out. And I... told Callen...no. So if you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me."

Sam's face fell and he looked down right contrite.

"Would you like to hit me now Sam?" she asked sarcastically.

Trying to lighten the mood he muttered, "Maybe a spanking, in the bedroom," at which Michelle laughed.

Getting serious again, Sam said, "But you could have died. You were being held at gunpoint when I arrived."

"And if you had given it another second, Callen would have shot him. It just happens you pulled the trigger first."

"Well, maybe," he grudgingly conceded.

Michelle walked over and wrapped her slender arms around her husband's muscled torso. "I'm fine Sam and it all worked out. In spite of what you may think, it was a well planned Op."

"Sydner died."

"And you know things can go wrong even on the best planned mission. Any day you or I or Callen could get killed. We have discussed this before. It's part of the job babe. You know it."

"Doesn't mean I have to to like it," Sam groused as he kissed the top of his wife's head in way of an apology.

Michelle disentangled herself from her hubby. "It's what we do for our country. Now go in there and apologize to your partner."

"I'm not apologizing to him! It would give him a swelled head."

Michelle swatted him on the butt and sent him on his way.

Sam debated how he was going to handle this as he headed back towards the living room. However, when he walked into the room, he realized he would have more time to think because his partner was sound asleep on the couch. Sam marked it as a testament to how exhausted Callen must be, along with how comfortable he felt in the Hanna household, that he allowed himself to fall asleep. Sam gently placed the throw from the back of the couch over his slumbering partner and went back into the kitchen.

Michelle looked up from the dishes she was rinsing and questioned, "That was quick."

"He's asleep. On our couch. He was up all night watching our house."

"He's a good partner and friend."

"The best," Sam said sincerely, "even if he is a pain in the ass at times."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way," Michelle concluded.

Sam grinned. "I'll give Hetty a call, tell her we'll be late; otherwise she might send a swat team. Then I'll take our darling daughter to school. By the time I get back, maybe sleeping beauty will be up. He never sleeps for long."

A thought crossed Michelle's mind. "He's asleep right? Not passed out!"

Sam laughed. "Nah, he's asleep and snoring."

Michelle giggled. "Callen snores."

"Not according to him. But we have been on enough stake outs and trust me, he snores and sometimes drools."

Sam went off on his errands and Michelle quietly went about her work in the house. When she went by the living room about an hour later, the couch was empty.

Something made her turn towards the front door in time to see it quietly close. Cautiously, she grabbed her gun from the hallway drawer and the clip from a high shelf where their daughter could not reach. She married the two, opened the door and pointed the gun.

Callen was on the bottom stair and on instinct when he heard the door open, he reached for his gun while ducking for cover until he realized it was Michelle. "You gonna shot me?" he asked drily as he reholstered his weapon.

"I dunno. Did you drool on my couch?" she teased.

"I don't drool," he replied indignantly.

"That's not what Sam says," she joked.

"He lies." Callen cocked his head to the side. "We good?"

"You and me? Or you and Sam?"

"Both."

"G honey. There was never anything wrong between you and me. You did what I asked."

"Which pissed Sam off," he said unconsciously rubbing his bruised cheek.

"This was never about you and Sam. It was about me being in the field. Sam hates it and you got caught in the crossfire. I guess Sam and I still need to work it out."

Callen grimaced good-naturedly. "Think you could do it quickly? It's bad enough getting beat up by the bad guys. I don't need friendly fire too."

"He didn't mean it."

"I know. And I tried to come here to tell him..."

"Don't worry G. He got the message. Trust me."

Callen looked deep into her eyes then nodded brusquely. "Tell him I'll meet him at the office. Gonna go home first and clean up." He turned, starting to walk away, then stopped. Facing Michelle he got very serious. "I will always be there for Sam and you, no matter what."

"I know G. And Sam does too. And we will always be there for you." But in typical G Callen fashion, he brushed off the idea of anyone caring that much about him which, Michelle feared, would some day get him killed.

Later that day back at Ops, Sam and Callen finally caught up with each other.

"We good?" Sam asked Callen when they were alone.

"We're good," Callen replied.

"My wife says you're hurt."

Callen rolled his eyes. "Another person mothering me. I already have you..."

"And don't forget Hetty."

"As if I could."

"Seriously, how bad is it?"

"Probably won't be racing Hetty on the rock wall for a while but not bad enough," he said cutting his partner off the pass, "to require a visit to any medical facility."

"Oh Mr. Callen," the voice of their Ops manager rang forth out of the blue. "Someone here to see you."

Callen turned to see Hetty and a man in a white coat approaching. "Is that a doctor Hetty?" he questioned suspiciously.

"I can see your powers of deduction have not been harmed. Now let's see about the rest of you," she said coming to a stop a few feet from him. Callen started backing up only to smack into Sam. "If Mohamed won't come to the mountain..."

"I have your back G," Sam parried, giving his partner a little shove towards the doctor.

"Unless," Hetty added thoughtfully while pulling a latex glove out of her pocket, "you'd rather I examine you."

"No, that's quite alright Hetty," Callen quickly replied.

"Have it your way Mr. Callen," Hetty muttered as she dropped the glove back into her pocket. "Mr. Hanna, please escort your partner and the doctor to the locker room. He can do the examination in there. And see to it he behaves." There was no doubt in Sam's mind who 'he' was.

"Hey," Sam tried to console his partner. "It's not a medical facility."

Hetty turned and was walking way when she suddenly paused. "Oh yes doctor. It is time for Mr. Callen's 10 year tetanus booster. Please be sure to administer it."

"No Hetty! No needles! Why are punishing me? Sam hit me! Punish him!" but the ops manager was long gone. "This is all your fault," he growled at his partner as he was escorted to the locker room. "Don't you feel bad?"

Sam grinned. "I feel bad. But it doesn't mean I'm not going to enjoy this too."

Hetty sat down at her desk with a cup of tea knowing all was well again with her lovable, if slightly dysfunctional family.

The End


End file.
